


warm like your hands

by suzuyaaaaa



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series, orange - 高野苺 | Takano Ichigo
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, sorry morgana u arent in this :(
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-05-30 00:47:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15085358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzuyaaaaa/pseuds/suzuyaaaaa
Summary: "Right now, ten years in the future, Akira is no longer with us. He passed away in a subway accident. My biggest regret is not being able to stop it from happening.Here’s the favor I need to ask of you. Please keep an eye on him. Please keep him close. I know you can save him."-Niijima Makoto receives a letter from herself from ten years in the future. It has one glaring request: Save Kurusu Akira.-[orange/persona 5 au]





	1. first letter

**Author's Note:**

> so, the last time i tried to start smth w/ multiple chapters, i failed bc i got too stressed out. that was a very long time ago, and im ready to try again! i recently watched orange which i fell in love with, and since ive just been writing constantly for the past few weeks, i figured that taking on a series wouldnt be too hard when i have a nice springboard to jump off of. its a milestone ive been wanting to hit (writing a full, mult-chap story), so thats my primary reason for writing this.
> 
> PLEASE READ THE TAGS!!! this fic is far from finished at the moment, but it will cover those issues. more tags will be added as i go along! if this isnt ur cup of tea, please click away for ur own sake!
> 
> in any case, im rly excited to finish this! im very self-critical so its taking me a lot of time to write each chapter bc i want it to not be ooc OR a carbon copy of the show. ill prolly heavy edit this later on lmao but anyways!! please enjoy :))
> 
> [to clarify: this is an au going more along the orange timeline. makoto, haru, + akechi are all 2nd yrs!]

“Haru, Ann, Yusuke, me, and Makoto.”

Ryuji hands out the letters as if he’s handling fine china, gently sliding the envelopes into everyone’s fingers. Makoto runs a thumb over the familiar handwriting, smiling at the color of the words. “To the 27-year-old Niijima Makoto from the 17-year-old Niijima Makoto.” She used her favorite blue pen, a nice, smooth one that Sae bought for her that year.

“What else is in it?” Ann asks. Makoto perks up and watches Ann’s eyes glitter sapphire with curiosity. Haru and Yusuke lean over the time capsule to peek inside, but she waits for Ryuji to tell everyone instead. She already knows what he’ll say. There’s a few trinkets, a picture of Ryuji picking his nose with one of Yusuke’s brushes, and a photo of everyone all huddled together, lips pursed around their juice box straws and victory signs high above their heads.

There’s also Akira’s letter with his sharp, clean handwriting as perfect as a stencil.

Makoto shivers and wraps her jacket tighter around herself, glancing up to survey her friends. To be completely honest, nobody has changed that much since high school aside from Ann, who just wears her hair down. Yusuke finally has enough money to afford glasses. Haru floats around like a pastel dream, sighing as she reads Akira’s name again and again. Makoto turns to find Ryuji turning the letter over, tracing the creases of the envelope. They all act the same. Has she changed at all in their eyes?

There’s a distinct emptiness in her body, a hollow cavern padded by regret. _I have so many regrets._ She blinks back a sudden wetness and tugs on her eyelids, feigning irritation.

The wind whistles in her ears when Yusuke breaks the silence, eyes downcast as he wedges a nail beneath the envelope lip. “Let’s open them, shall we?” 

 

* * *

 

“Makoto, don’t forget your breakfast!” Sae yells as Makoto stumbles into the hallway and shoves her feet into her boots, lacing them up with sloppy fingers. Sae holds out a piece of toast which Makoto aggressively bites while checking that she hasn’t forgotten to pack anything. “Don’t choke in your rush,” Sae scolds as Makoto wolfs down her food.

Makoto hikes her bag up her shoulder and waves goodbye to her sister who’s already back to her work at the dining table. Of all days to wake up late, _of course_ it’s the day of the opening ceremony. She taps her toes to fit the shoes on her as snugly as she can when her foot slides across something, and the wrinkling of paper hits her ears like a plea. Makoto turns around and picks up a letter; it’s probably from a relative.

Her eyes widen at the small, precise handwriting, identical to the Japanese on all of her assignments. “To Niijima Makoto-chan, from Niijima Makoto.”

“Ma-ko-to, get _out_!” Makoto groans and shoves the letter into a side pocket, licking her lips to get rid of leftover bread crumbs as she races out into the city.

 

* * *

 

“Mako-chan, I saw you running in this morning,” Haru sings out as she approaches. The Tokyo sun shines into Class 2D and kisses desks gold, but Makoto somehow got a seat towards the back, shaded by the building.

Makoto smooshes her cheek into her palm and nods tiredly, answering Haru’s inquisitive smile with a soft yawn. “I didn’t hear my alarm and woke up late,” she chuckles out and shakes her head at the whole scenario. “That doesn’t sound like me at all.” Haru giggles softly and tugs on her long sleeves. Makoto fans herself with a hand when she remembers how _hot_ it’s been lately. Why do they have to wait until June to change into their summer uniforms?

Someone tackles Makoto from behind, blonde hair cutting off her peripheral as a set of pink nails grip her shoulders. “ _You_ woke up late? Just goes to show Shujin is destroying us,” Ann comments, a scheme in her voice as she roundabouts to squat beside her desk. Makoto shakes her head again with more vigor than before. Ann raises an eyebrow in disbelief and reaches into her bag, pulling out something with a loud _crinkle._ “For your health."

Makoto frowns and pushes the bag of candy back into Ann’s hands. Is this all she ever eats? “I packed a big lunch today, so I’ll be fine.” Haru’s eyes widen as she plucks out an orange lollipop and pops it into her mouth. “Besides, wouldn’t this technically make me unhealthy? I’m grateful, but I’m not a big sweets person–”

“If you aren’t taking them, then I will,” Ryuji interjects, oozing mischief as he snatches up the entire bag and tucks it into his pocket.

Ann stands up and slams her hands on Makoto’s desk, making her jump. “I spent too much money on those to have _you_ eat them.” Makoto cringes as Ryuji rolls out his tongue and encloses a chocolate, moaning as he chews it. Ann’s face twists as she reaches around Ryuji for the bag, but he’s too fast and holds it out of her reach.

“Oh, Yusuke, good morning!” Haru calls out, making Makoto’s head spin as she turns around. However, Yusuke doesn’t acknowledge either of them and falls into his seat. Makoto catches the fire in his eyes, almost hidden by his long bangs, but she knows that look all too well. Yusuke pulls out a notebook and furiously swipes across it with his pencil; Haru laughs fondly next to her, soft as petals. “Is he having inspiration?” she whispers.

Makoto nods and tilts her head to get a better look of his new creation, but his arm is a worthy rival, barring off the page from their sight. “I hope it’s something good,” she says, teeth gleaming as she breaks out into a beam. “He’s been in a slump for a while.” Haru makes a sound of affirmation and wraps her lips around her candy.

Makoto sits up tall and lightly smacks her cheeks to wake herself up, the cacophony of Ann and Ryuji’s bantering a familiar melody in her ears. Eventually, Kawakami-sensei enters with fatigue plaguing her every step, and Makoto’s mouth turns down in concern. “Settle down, everyone,” she says like she does every morning, and Ryuji, Ann, and Haru all drift back to their seats. Makoto holds back a smile with a few fingers over her mouth, eyeing Ryuji’s bulge of candy through Shujin plaid. The familiarity slowly helps to wake her up, comforting her as she sinks into the new year.

As her eyes sweep over her bag, she catches the edge of the letter peeking out of one of the pockets. Makoto plucks it out, eyes gleaming ruby with curiosity. She turns it over in her hands while Kawakami gives a speech about doing their best this spring; after glancing up to ensure that her teacher isn’t watching her, Makoto slowly opens the envelope. The letter spans multiple pages; Makoto thumbs through them to see they’re covered front and back, all by Niijima handwriting in cool, blue ink like the one in her favorite pen.

“We also have a new transfer student joining us,” Kawakami adds. Makoto perks up and listens to the class’s quiet uproar; she hopes that if it’s a girl, the boys won’t harass her too much. Her face scrunches up at the way some of her classmates’ eyes cloud over with fantasy. _How disgusting._

Kawakami leaves to go fetch the new kid, and curious whispers flood the room. Makoto looks back down at the papers clenched in her hands. Swallowing down her cynicism that this is just some prank, she smooths the first page out on her desk and begins to read.

 

_To Makoto-chan,_

_How are you doing? I can’t believe you’ve just a second year. I don’t really know what to say, but I hope you’re having fun so far. Remember to not stress out so much. You will be_ _fine_ _even if you aren’t at your peak all the time._

_I’m writing this to you ten years in the future. I know that seems ridiculous, but I hope you’ll keep reading anyways. I need you to do me a favor. I'll explain more soon._

_This letter contains events that will happen and the choices I want you to make. I don’t want you to repeat my mistakes._

 

Makoto’s brows knit together as she reads the page over and over, logic telling her to throw the letter away and forget she saw it in the first place, but her gut tells her to push forward.

 

_ April 8th.  _

  * _After staying up late reading my favorite novel, I don’t hear my alarm in the morning. I oversleep for the first time in my life, and I'm almost late for the first time, too._



The specificity of it makes her palms sweat and her tongue dry up. A twenty-seven-year-old Makoto could never travel back in time, much less send her a letter, but who else would’ve been able to write exactly what happened this morning? How did they know?

Makoto’s eyes dart up to make sure that Kawakami is still gone before she continues down the letter, curiosity and apprehension eating up her mind.

 

  * _A new transfer student from Hitachinaka joins Class 2D. His name is Kurusu Akira, and he sits next to me._



 

The classroom door slides open, and Makoto flies up in her seat, hastily folding the letter and shoving it into her bag. Kawakami mutters to someone outside before heading to the blackboard. Makoto’s eyes dart to the unfamiliar silhouette. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Kurusu Akira-kun.” Makoto’s stomach drops.

Kurusu steps next to Kawakami’s desk and leans into his left hip, bag shoved behind him with his arm pressed into his side. As Kawakami writes his name, he offers a friendly smile to the room and pushes his bulky glasses up his nose, black as his hair. Makoto leans forward on her elbows to try and get a better look, and his gaze meets hers while she brushes her bangs away. Makoto swallows. He has eyes of starlight.

“Kurusu-kun moved all the way from Hitachinaka in Ibaraki, so I hope you’ll be helping him around the city,” Kawakami continues. She nods towards Kurusu who straightens up, grin growing as he surveys the room, and finally settles on Makoto again. She refuses to look away.

Kurusu offers a small bow. Makoto’s lips turn up at how his bangs fall a little out of place, splaying across his forehead. “It’s nice to meet you all. Please take care of me,” he says with the right amount of ease, smiling, smiling, smiling. Does he smile this often all the time?

Kawakami hums and stretches her neck, looking around the room for a seat. Kurusu turns to look at her and shoves his hands in his pockets. “You’ll sit by... ah, Niijima, in the back,” she finally decides. Makoto’s eyes widen as the letter shoves its way to the front of her thoughts, and she has to stop herself from gawking at the accuracy. Kurusu’s hair sways as he searches the back row, and Makoto raises her hand to wave at him. Kawakami nods and motions him forward; Makoto offers a polite smile as he passes by.

_His name is Kurusu Akira, and he sits next to me._

She can’t throw the letters away now.

 

* * *

 

  * _Akira turns down the invitation to hang out in Shibuya. **Please don’t invite him out today of all days.**_



__

Makoto blinks as she rereads the bullet point like she’s been rereading every word of this letter, and her rationality keeps nagging her away while her interest pulls her in. Makoto rubs her temples and tries to prevent an oncoming headache; she’s been having this internal debate _all day._

“Mako-chan, you’re coming to Big Bang today, right?” Makoto breaks out of her trance and slides the letter back into her bag. She nods and smiles as Ann bounces on her toes, pigtails swinging from side to side. She grabs Makoto’s hand and pulls her out of her seat, dragging her over to Yusuke who closes his book with a sense of peace washing over his features. “Yusuke, you too! Haru said they just added a new milkshake special!”

Yusuke chuckles and ties his blazer around his hips, nimble fingers handling the black sleeves with grace. “I shall have a celebratory toast. I think I’m on to something that will pull me out of my creative hole.” Ann snickers at his wording, but Makoto rubs his shoulder and agrees to celebrate with him.

“Yo, Akira!” Ryuji suddenly bellows, voice bouncing off the walls. Makoto glares at him over her shoulder at the sheer volume of his cry. She turns towards the door to see Akira mid-step in the hallway, mouth parted in surprise. Ryuji weaves through the desks and swings an arm over his shoulder, shaking him back and forth. “Sakamoto Ryuji. It _is_ Akira, right?” Kurusu nods after a moment, face relaxing into something a little more relaxed than what Makoto saw at the front of the classroom.

Makoto releases Ann’s hand and walks over to flick Ryuji with a sharp nail. “You’re so loud, _Sakamoto_ ,” she scolds, crossing her arms. Kurusu’s lips curl as Ryuji groans, muttering that he hates it when Makoto calls him by his last name. She turns to Kurusu and offers out her hand. “Niijima Makoto. Don’t mind him, Kurusu-kun.” She motions her head back, pointing at her friends with her free hand. “That’s Takamaki Ann and Kitagawa Yusuke.”

Kurusu waves at them and shakes her hand firmly, grip hard and all-encompassing; Makoto’s always had small hands, and Kurusu is _tall._ “Kurusu Akira, but I’m guessing you already knew. Just Akira is fine,” he replies. Makoto’s mouth splits open all on its own as she grins, and Kurusu – no, _Akira_ – beams back.

Ryuji quite literally _yanks_ Akira back into a half-bro-hug, and Makoto narrows her eyes into knives, revelling in how his smirk wavers. He turns back to Akira with an electric expression. “You wanna come hang with us today? We’re going to Big Bang in Shibuya.”

_Akira turns down the invitation to hang out in Shibuya._

Akira’s smile goes lopsided with apology. “I actually have something to do.” Makoto wonders if Ryuji will leave him be, but her gut knows that’s not the case.

“C’mon, man, maybe for a little bit? Let’s get to know each other! The gang’s all here,” he counters at rapidfire speed. Makoto’s head spins with the force he used to push those words out into Akira’s face.

Akira opens his mouth to probably turn him down again, but Haru approaches the group, bumping a shoulder into Makoto to indicate her presence. “My father owns the restaurant. Our service is pretty fast, but knowing employees does wonders. It shouldn’t take long at all.” She puncuates her sentence with a bright smile, clasping her hands behind her back with her bag in tow between her fingers. “I’m Okumura Haru. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Ryuji prompts him lightly for a few more minutes, and after Haru and Ann join in, Akira smiles and gives in. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to get to know the place,” he laughs out. “Just let me send a quick email first.” Ryuji vibrates and slaps his back, and Makoto holds back a sigh to watch the scene.

The group steadily flows out into the hall, but Makoto lingers momentarily, glancing at Akira over her shoulder. His back faces her as he types away on a red screen; she should be out of sight.

Then, Akira turns around and gives Makoto a reassuring smile, waving his glowing phone at her. “Go on ahead. I’ll meet you at the entrance?” Makoto blinks and nods, grip tightening on her bag as Akira looks away.

_Please_ _don’t invite him out today of all days._

Why?

 

* * *

 

“I called upon Ann to be my new muse.”

“Yeah, _naked_ muse!”

Makoto winces when Ann tosses a ketchup-covered fry at Yusuke’s face, but he manages to dodge in time, and the food bounces off the booth. “You are a sneaky little fox,” Ann teases with no real malice.

Yusuke pats his mouth clean and clasps his hands together on the table. “It was in the name of _art._ You know I'm–”

Ann shoves another fry into his mouth to silence him, mouth painted with an apologetic smile. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I tease you too much.” Yusuke’s eyes widen before he relaxes, biting into the fry with an exasperated smile. Makoto looks across from her to see Akira laughing as he bites into his cheeseburger, struggling to keep all the food in. Makoto can’t help but begin to laugh herself at everyone’s antics.

They got their food within ten minutes, but they’ve been sitting here for almost an hour, recounting stories to Akira and asking him about his hometown. He listens more than he speaks, cackling at all their tales from when Ryuji called a maid service to all the times Haru found strange shops in Akihabara. Makoto keeps an eye on him the whole time, and from what she can tell, Akira is having a great time.

 _Why would the letter tell us to not invite Akira?_ she thinks to herself as she steals some of Ann’s milkshake. _Nothing bad has happened, and he deserves to enjoy himself._

One by one, everyone leaves for prior commitments. Ryuji makes Akira give him his contact info to add him to the group chat. Makoto catches the blush on the blond’s cheeks but stays silent.

Suddenly, it’s just Akira and her sitting across from one another, food almost finished but not quite. Makoto could’ve left a while ago, and she probably would’ve since she likes to get her work done early. However, she’s still waiting for something to happen. Anticipation and curiosity will override her will to work any day.

“Makoto, you don’t have many stories, do you?” Akira asks, slurping up the last of Ann’s milkshake greedily.

Makoto picks up a spoon to scoop some of the foamy concoction for herself.  “I don’t. I’m a pretty good kid for my sister, but I think I’m less interesting because of that. I don’t do anything too reckless.” She hums contently as she licks her spoon clean, the strawberry flavor making her heart flip around. When she looks at Akira, his eyes are glittering stars just like they were this morning, and she sits up taller in her seat. As she reaches for another spoonful, she asks, “What about you? There has to be something in Hitachinaka that we don’t have.”

Akira props his chin on his hand and swirls his straw around the glass in thought. “My sister and I used to go to the coast a lot. We went to this park every time, Hitachi Seaside Park.” Makoto goes still as Akira’s eyes fog up with something she can’t name, but his smile is fond with nostalgia. He stares at Makoto through his lashes and pushes up his glasses, and the megane gleam transforms him into an anime persona. “Bet you don’t have _that_ in Tokyo,” he purrs, deepening his voice.

Makoto laughs and shakes her head, and she feeds herself another bite of milkshake paradise. “When you go back, take me with you,” she dares to say, confidence running in her blood. Akira’s eyes widen, and Makoto clarifies, “I miss beach trips. It’s been over a decade since our last one.” He nods in understanding and looks down at the dessert.

“I’d be more than happy to,” he finally replies. His smile is so big and bright like a slice of the moon, and something warm blossoms in her chest. She wants to see him smile like that all the time.

 

* * *

 

After she said goodbye to Akira, the vision of him colored in sunset engraved into memory, she nearly decides to throw the letter away and call its bluff.

Then, Akira doesn’t come to school for two weeks.

> **_Niijima Makoto_ ** _ > Are you sure you don’t want me to run over some of your work? _
> 
> **_Kurusu Akira_ ** _ > yeah dont worry about it! i already picked it up. thanks tho :)) _

Makoto huffs and lets her phone fall onto her sheets. It buzzes again with what she knows is a “ _good night_ ” text, and she shoves her earbuds in and lets herself drown in music. Akira only went to Shujin for a day, but the seat next to her already feels too empty. Makoto buries her face in her hands and sighs through her fingers. After a minute, she peeks through them at The Drawer of her desk. Buchimaru watches her expectantly.

She still isn’t prepared for the wave of panic that washes over her when she sees the envelope. She closes The Drawer and sinks into her desk chair, and Buchimaru’s stare burns into her as she flips the lip up. She can’t stop thinking about Shibuya, wondering if that set something off and kept Akira away. The papers fall out in a fat stack onto her lap; the piano notes of the current song echo in her ears as she flips to the back of page one.

 

_If you invite him, what’s done is done. In time, I believe he’ll tell you why he was away for so long._

_That day in Shibuya, I began to fall in love with Akira. I think that was when it all started._

 

Makoto gulps and scans the sentence a couple of times, hands hot and sticky against the cool paper. Something in the words ring true in her heart now that she thinks about it, but it couldn’t be love. Not even close. It would be too much all at once, too dramatic, wouldn’t it? Her eyes trail down the rest of the page slowly, soaking every character into her skin as she runs over the blue indents.

 

_Makoto, you have such a bright future ahead. You’re going to achieve your goals, and I hope you can sense it. Please don’t lose sight of what you want or decide that you don’t deserve it._

_I don’t want you to carry these regrets for the rest of your life. I want you to live the happiest life you can by doing what you think should be done, not what others tell you to do. You can’t hold back. If we hold back, nothing will ever change for the better._

 

Makoto reaches the end of the page and freezes. Nothing else exists but the letter in her hands, and she chokes on the little air she has.

 

_Right now, ten years in the future, Akira is no longer with us. He passed away in a subway accident. My biggest regret is not being able to stop it from happening._

_Here’s the favor I need to ask of you. Please keep an eye on him. Please keep him close. I know you can save him._


	2. second letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me?! updating in a week??! more likely than u think!
> 
> thank u guys who commented so far! im glad u like the story, and im so shocked that some of u want to watch orange itself bc of this :,)

_April 25th._

  * _Today, we choose class representatives. I was interested in running, but when I found out that people were rooting for Akechi, I changed my mind. I definitely regret it when Mishima wins instead._


  * _**I want you to run for class rep.** It may not seem important regarding Akira, but it’s important to you._



Makoto glares at the letter fiercely as if the words would somehow change. There’s _no way_ that Mishima would beat Akechi in class elections. As much as she likes Mishima, almost every girl in 2D fawns over Akechi, and he could easily charm them right into his gloved hands. There’s no point in fighting a war when the outcome is already written in the stars.

Makoto sighs and watches rain drip off the edge of her umbrella. Tokyo symphony surrounds her and fills her up, a harmony of constant chattering and tires rolling through water. She trudges down into the subway and rides to Aoyama-Itchome in a daze, body dragging with every step, every movement, every breath as she goes through her daily routine. She hates having days like these. It’s so much harder to keep up with all her obligations. She’s so _tired._

“I still think you should run regardless of Akechi,” Ann suddenly says during break. Makoto lolls her head to the side and gives her an exasperated stare, but Ann ignores her in lieu of chomping down on her sweet bun. “Haru, back me up.”

Haru swallows down a piece of sushi and faces Makoto with a determined gleam in her eye. “Not everyone is mindless. I have faith in our class, and you should too.”

Makoto waves an octopus sausage in her chopsticks at both of them. She doesn’t care what the letter says; she _knows_ what will happen. “What’s the point in running when he’ll have an army of estrogen at his feet?” Both of her friends frown at her, but Makoto merely bites off the octopus’s head, shrugging casually. “It’s not very important anyways. Class reps don’t do much.”

“You’re such a cynic like your sister,” Haru sighs.

Ann takes another huge bite of her bun, cheeks chipmunking as she jabs a finger into Makoto’s chest. “Don’t you want to be student council president? This will establish trust with the masses!” Haru firmly nods in agreement, and Ann swallows her food, blue eyes fierce as the hottest fire. “It’s important to _you._ That’s why you should run,” she continues, “and also, you need to save our class from turning into the Akechi Fan Club.”

Makoto giggles as she sips her orange juice, and the citrus burns electric down her throat. The classroom door slides open, and Yusuke’s dark head pops in, lunch in hand as he takes a seat on Akira’s desk. Makoto’s heart lurches, and the afterglow of the juice turns especially acidic. She’s ready to throw up.

She hasn’t even been thinking about class elections, not after finishing page one and having a mental crisis at midnight. This entire letter is a plea to save him, but save him _how?_ When and why did it happen? How did it even occur in the first–

“Ann, you’re quite loud, you know,” Yusuke interrupts bluntly. Ann flushes and presses a hand over her face, muttering that she’s just as bad as Ryuji. Yusuke laughs deep like thunder and unwraps his food. “I think Makoto would be an excellent choice to represent us. To be quite honest, I don’t think Akechi should run at all. He’s already a part-time detective and misses classes.”

Makoto props her chin on her hand. Akechi would find a way to do it anyways. Ryuji bounces in a few minutes later, crinkling bags of food in his big hands, and he leans a hip onto Akira’s _empty_ chair. Makoto closes her bento and puts it away, appetite thoroughly ruined. She knows she’s overthinking, but she doesn’t know what to believe from the letter.

What if she’s already too late?

 

* * *

 

“I nominate Niijima!”

Makoto drops her pen onto her desk and glares cuts into Ann from behind her hand, but the blonde smiles cheerfully from her window seat and points directly at her. ‘ _There’s no need for that,’_ she wants to scream. Judging by the lightning flash in Ann’s eyes, she understood the message perfectly. “Niijima.” Makoto perks up when she hears Kawakami’s call, and the woman’s brows draw together. “Do you want to accept the nomination? We won’t force you.”

_I want you to run for class rep._

_It’s probably not worth it,_ Makoto counters to the handwriting in her head. Mishima watches her with large, curious eyes as she hesitates to answer. Ann stares at her sharply, eyes two blue diamonds, and suddenly, Makoto feels like the whole class is looking at her. Their gazes burn into her skin; soon, she’ll be epidermis with more charred holes than clean surface area.

_It may not seem important regarding Akira, but it’s important to you._

Makoto chews on her lips and cracks her fingers under the table. Akechi turns over his shoulder in the front row and sends her a pretty little smile, and competition rolls in her blood momentarily. Her gaze flickers up to Kawakami, and she slowly, tentatively, almost imperceptibly nods. Ann’s lips peel away to reveal a gleaming Takamaki beam, and Kawakami motions Makoto to the front of the class. She still has no hope that she’ll come close to winning, but her curiosity pulls her in like a temptress.

Not even five seconds later, Sato Yui’s hand flies up into the air, and Makoto resists the urge to roll her eyes into the back of her head as she stands next to Mishima. He nearly shrinks away when she turns to face the class. “I nominate Akechi-kun!” Sato says with stars in her eyes that spill out on her tongue, not even waiting for Kawakami to call on her.

Makoto braces herself for Akechi’s chair scraping against the floor, and Mishima stops shrinking and begins melting in disappointment. _Big mood, Yuuki._ Akechi stops tapping his pen against his mouth, and he smiles, lips dipping into a little bow. She’s met up with Akechi enough times to catch on to his charade of delicacy; the disparity between Akechi at Shujin and Akechi at the SIU is a long and deep abyss.

Makoto watches him feign surprise as he brushes a lock of hair behind his ear and blinks at Sato owlishly. “Ah, Sato-san, thank you!” Akechi beams with that Classic Idol Grin; Makoto worries her thumbs into the hem of her skirt behind her back. Sato turns pink with infatuation, and Makoto wonders if she’ll faint on the spot.

However, when Akechi looks to the front again, he frowns and shakes his head, scratching his neck when Kawakami stares him down expectantly. “I’m afraid I can’t accept the nomination, though. I don’t think I would be very helpful, especially with my schedule.” Makoto’s eyes widen in shock, and Akechi’s gaze darts over to her slyly. “I apologize, but you already have some _wonderful_ candidates up there.” If she had it in her, she would glare knives into him at the sarcasm even if nobody else seems to notice it. Akechi is the annoying brother she never had.

Kawakami nods and dismisses him, asking once again if anyone has any final nominations. Makoto inwardly sighs as many of the girls sink into their seats with disappointment, but nobody else speaks up. It’s not like Akechi pulling out of the nomination is an earth-shattering event, but the letter’s descriptions might work out surprisingly enough. The pessimist within her nags that Mishima may win regardless that she’s up there.

A few minutes later after the class votes, Makoto mentally kisses the letter in her head when hands shoot up in her favor.

“I _knew_ you were going to win!” Ann whoops as Makoto and her walk down to the first floor; she interlocks their arms and drags Makoto while taking the stairs two at a time. The group collectively cheers behind the pair.

Ryuji ambles up next to them, digging his hands deep into his pockets. “Mishima didn’t stand a chance against you.”

Makoto rolls her eyes and nudges him gently with her bag. “The only reason this was possible is because Akechi dropped out.” Ryuji huffs and pushes her back with a shoulder, and Ann tightens her grip around Makoto’s arm and gives her a Look.

“For good reason, though,” Haru chimes in. Yusuke hums in agreement, and the group starts up again about how busy he always is and how much Makoto deserved class rep more than he ever did.

“To our class rep!” Ann calls out as Makoto waves goodbye over her shoulder a few minutes later; her cheeks blush as her friend catches the attention of a few other lingering students, but her smile grows nevertheless. Everyone parts for their usual routes while Ryuji and Yusuke stay behind for clubs.

The rain has lightened considerably since this morning, but Makoto opens her umbrella anyways and walks towards the subway on autopilot. Puddles bloom into wide water bouquets under her feet, and rain kisses the tip of her nose as she glances up at the sky.

As she closes her umbrella and heads into her station, Makoto pulls out the letter and begins to skim over page one again, ending when she reaches the bullets telling her about today’s events. Chewing on her lip, she presses the paper into her chest and tries to settle the storm brewing in her stomach.

Makoto shakes her head at her own absurdity; she can’t just choose to believe one part of the letter and ignore everything else. She runs her fingertips over Akira’s name, and a new resolve runs through her body. Makoto folds the paper and shoves it into her bag, jaw set and eyes blazing as she runs towards her train pulling into the platform.

It doesn’t matter how this letter reached her in the first place. It doesn’t even matter if it’s really from the Makoto of the future. It’s been right more than once. What matters is how she can use it to achieve her goal.

Hopefully, he’s okay for now.

 

* * *

 

When Akira finally returns from nowhere, Makoto immediately frowns at the velvet bags emphasized by the shadows from his glasses. His eyes look carved out, two dark holes in his pale face, but Akira just smiles, smiles, _smiles_ like he always does, punching Ryuji on the shoulder like they’re brothers.

 

_April 26th._

  * _Akira comes back to school. He tells us that he was out on a family reunion or some other piss-poor excuse. I never believed him, but I never continued to push, either._



  

“Where have you been?” Makoto asks as casually as she can during Akira’s first break back. As Akira crosses his arms and leans back into his chair, she feels like he’s closing her off.

Akira tugs on his fringe and sends her a criminal smirk, chuckling when Makoto sighs in exasperation. “Been out ditching. Stealing hearts.” Then, he _winks_ like someone out of a host club.

Makoto’s face goes slack as she strikes his arm, ignoring the soft flutter of her heart. “I see you’re still a baby.” Akira barks out a laugh and grins, but his eyes trail off to the others having their own conversations. Yusuke and Haru are probably being cultured together while Ann and Ryuji bicker like siblings, and Akira swipes his tongue over his dry lips. Makoto sits on the edge of her seat and watches his thumbs dig into the sleeves of his blazer, wrapping loosely around his skinny arms. Where’s his lunch?

“I went to a family reunion. It was pretty far out, so we stuck around for longer to see the sights.” He lolls his head to the side and meets Makoto’s eyes again; the gray looks much flatter than before, blotchy and blended like a pencil colored his irises. “It wasn’t all that interesting, and I missed a shit ton of work, too,” he mourns, throwing an arm over his face in loss.

Makoto huffs out a quiet laugh and takes out a rice ball, putting it on a napkin and sliding it onto his desk. “If you need help catching up, don’t hesitate to ask,” she says after a beat of silence. Akira sits up and eyes the food skeptically, but Makoto pushes it back into his hands before he can return it. “Don’t hesitate to eat either. I won’t let you starve on my watch,” she asserts firmly.

Akira blinks in surprise before his face softens, and he handles the rice ball gently with his long fingers. “Ryuji was right when he said you’re the mom,” he mutters under his breath, but Makoto’s head whips over all the same. Akira wiggles his eyebrows and takes a big bite of his treat, moaning at the flavor. “Thank you. I didn’t need this, though.”

“Tell me that when you’re eating real meals. I’ll even make you lunch so I _know_ you’re taking care of yourself,” Makoto retorts, only half-kidding as she watches Akira devour his tiny lunch. He chipmunks his cheeks, and he has rice stuck on his lips; Makoto can’t help but agree with Ryuji because she _feels_ like a mother just looking at him.

Akira tells the rest of their friends little about the so-called reunion, the explanation too perfectly rehearsed as he repeats it, and her curiosity begs to be satiated. Then again, she barely knows Akira aside from little tidbits of fact from texts. When class starts again, she opens the letter on her lap and continues to read. She keeps it in the same pocket as her cell phone; she figured since yesterday that she would be using it just as frequently.

 

  * _**First of all, make him lunch. He needs it.**_


  * _**Second of all, keep asking him about those two weeks.** Akira has always been considerate to the point where he doesn’t care for himself._



Makoto steals a glance at Akira who quickly jots down notes in shorthand. He catches Makoto’s gaze and winks playfully, dark lashes dancing. Something in her chest stutters, but she shakes her head to cover up the reaction. Akira snickers into his palm before Ushimaru calls on him to answer a question. When their gazes break, her heart feels heavy, and her throat dries up. Does she have the right to pry?

As she tucks the letter away, writing down notes before the teacher moves to a new topic, she realizes that Akira fell back into normalcy so quickly, too freakishly fine as he socializes with everyone. Her friends’ voices overlap in her ears while she observes Akira out of the corner of her eye. The lines under his eyes look darker and deeper than they did this morning.

Making him lunch seems a little presumptuous, but investigation is in her blood. As the group departs at the school gates and Ryuji drags Akira inside to talk to him about the track team, she’s already plotting a way to pull out who he is behind the mask. Why else would someone act so put together if they didn’t have something to cover up?

 

* * *

 

The last week of April passes in a flurry of petals and cherry blossom glow, and she still hasn’t made any progress. She tells herself that’s why she’s making a second bento in the blue hours of the night. It’s to push forward her investigation, if she could even call it that. For now, she’s on her own until mid-May.

Sae comes home late, startling when she sees Makoto in the kitchen. “What are you doing up? I thought you’d be in bed by now,” she chides tiredly, but Makoto can hear the fondness in her sister’s voice. Sae’s been staying later and later at work for some cases regarding recent subway crashes; they barely see each other aside from little glimpses in the morning before leaving the house.

Makoto makes a little pocket in the rice for a big slice of teriyaki salmon, debating on whether or not to tell Sae the truth. There’s no reason to hide it, is there? Before she can begin to explain, though, Sae hums and presses a fatigued kiss into her hair. Makoto’s heart lurches in sympathy. “Just go to bed soon, alright?” she mutters into the relative silence. Makoto’s hair swishes against her neck as she nods, and Sae turns away and trudges heavily down the hall.

Makoto adjusts the food to her liking before snapping the container shut, tapping her clear nails over the top. The clock reads almost midnight, but she’s still wide awake and bouncing on her toes. Just as she puts the bento away, her phone buzzes in her pocket. 

> **_Sakamoto Ryuji_ ** _ > hey ka-san, hv u been doing good lately? _

Makoto blinks in surprise as she flicks on the bathroom light, maneuvering her toothbrush on autopilot. She types out a reply with her pinky as she brushes her teeth. The yellow lights flicker tiredly. They should get those replaced soon.

> **_Niijima Makoto_ ** _ > Was this meant for your actual mother? _
> 
> **_Sakamoto Ryuji_ ** _ > no lmao but ur avoiding the question _

Makoto huffs and spits out a bullet of toothpaste. Ryuji and her have been friends since middle school, but it’s still surprising when he checks up on her. As she pins her bangs up so she can wash her face, her phone buzzes again.

> **_Sakamoto Ryuji_ ** _ > if u need help w anything, u know i got ur back rt? _

Makoto nibbles on the inside of her cheek and douses herself in face wash to bide time. _I wish you could help me with this._ She splashes her face and pats it dry before handling her phone with damp fingers. As she types out her reply, she frowns and wonders if she’s really _so_ obvious that even Ryuji picks up on her distress.

> **_Niijima Makoto_ ** _ > I know you do. Thank you :) but you need to sleep! _
> 
> **_Sakamoto Ryuji_ ** _ > bRUH so do u hypocrite _

Makoto laughs into her face cloth before clicking her phone to sleep. The house creaks as she sneaks into her room as quietly as she can, coming face to face with Buchimaru who watches her again from her desk. She pats his head out of instinct, changes quickly, and collapses into bed, too exhausted to go through her notifications as her eyes slip shut.

 _I’ll give him the bento first thing tomorrow,_ she decides. _Better to get it over with quickly._

 

* * *

 

Makoto does not give him the bento in the morning. Or during class changes. Or even during lunch because Ryuji’s mom packed for him today, so he splits the food he bought between Akira and Yusuke. She almost does it right after cleaning, but Ryuji has a meet today, and the group all agreed to go in support. She can’t just give it to him in front of everyone. It would be so _awkward._

_Make him lunch. He needs it._

Makoto’s fingers tighten around the straps of her bag, and she bounces it between her legs. _Easier said than done._ The track team warms up while spectators gather in the stands to watch, and Ann comes back from the vending machines. Makoto halts her legs and stabs the straw into her juicebox. The spring breeze rolls warm across her neck, and the orange juice shoots down her throat. Akira grabs the other orange box and holds it out to Makoto. After a second, she lets go of the straw and hits her drink with his in cardboard cheers.

Ryuji scrambles towards the stands to chug down a third of his water, and the group rises up to go meet him at the bottom. “Why did we choose seats up here if all we were going to do was go back down?” Makoto leans over and asks Yusuke while everyone else clambers forward.

Yusuke holds a hand to his chin, and Makoto’s lips peel back in amusement at his serious consideration. “I suppose it’s for the effect,” he finally decides, watching Haru hand Ryuji a quick snack. “Imagine, you’re come back from the race, and _whoosh!_ A crowd of people comes down to greet you.” Yusuke holds out a hand and makes an arc across the blue sky. “Very romantic, isn’t it?”

“The race hasn’t even begun,” she counters, but Yusuke shrugs off her reply with a flip of his bangs and a soft smile. Makoto’s gaze goes back to watching the ‘crowd,’ and Akira falls down into a seat a couple rows up from the group. The extra bento in her bag weighs down her side.

“Yo, dude, you feeling good?” Makoto and Akira both perk up when Ryuji’s question booms across the air. She takes a few extra steps so she’s standing on Akira’s row; the boy sucks on his juice quietly, eyes downcast as Ryuji maneuvers his way forward.

Akira pulls away from his straw and smiles. “Just sleep deprived. Shouldn’t you be worrying about winning?” he counters quickly before sipping his drink again and sealing his lips shut.

Ann frowns over her shoulder and faces him with fists on her hips and legs spread open. Makoto thinks she looks like Wonder Woman. “If you’re tired, you should probably go home,” she declares, stomping up until her shadow casts over him. Akira blinks and opens his mouth to protest, but Ann serves one of her Looks and promptly shuts him down.

He leans to look past Ann’s legs and asks Ryuji through his gaze, and the blond smiles and waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t burn out ‘cause of one meet. There’s a shit ton for you to come to later!” he reassures, and Akira’s shoulders sag in relief. Another glance at Ann makes him zip up his bag and stand up. The bento feels even heavier.

Akira says his goodbyes and heads out of the stands with his bag flipped over his shoulder, and Makoto watches him out the corner of her eye. It’s only Wednesday; she can give it to him tomorrow. She tries to ignore her subconscious who strikes her over the head for being a coward. As she turns to wave Ryuji off to go finish his warmups, she nearly startles at the fire in his gaze as he eyes her expectantly. She blinks a few times, and suddenly, the moment is gone when Ann taps his shoulder.

Makoto flops next to Haru and presses her face into her hands; she can see Akira’s lanky silhouette flowing out of the gate, a liquid shadow melting into May shade. Haru taps her shoulder, and the girl bites her lip and twiddles her thumbs. “Mako-chan, does Akira-kun seem... I don’t know, off?” Makoto’s throat tightens when Haru looks away with a nervous laugh. “It could just be my imagination. I’ve always been a worrier, right?”

Makoto directly  looks back to where Akira disappeared and shakes her head firmly. “I think so, too,” she reassures.

Haru tsks and takes another slurp of her Starvicks. “Maybe life in the city is just a little overwhelming for him. I can certainly understand that,” she ponders absentmindedly. Makoto chews on her own straw in thought; maybe the letter will give her a hint?

_Keep asking him about those two weeks._

Makoto squeezes the juice a little too hard and jolts when some of it leaks onto her finger. Haru quickly retrieves a napkin and to help clean up, and Makoto sits paralyzed as guilt swirls in her gut. _What am I doing?_ she asks herself for the nth time since she received the letter. Her eyes flit over to her bag to where she knows it’s hiding, and she can hear herself reading it out.

_Please keep an eye on him._

Haru stands up to go throw the napkin away, and Makoto grabs her bag and rises without a second thought.

_Please keep him close._

“Ryuji, I think I’m going to head home too,” she calls out as she turns to leave. She belatedly realizes that she probably needs to provide an explanation, but when she turns around to give an apology, Ryuji’s already waving with a shining grin. Makoto blinks and waves back. “I’ll come to your next meet, I promise!” Ryuji nods and shouts a goodbye between his hands. Makoto pointedly avoids looking at Ann and Yusuke as she hurries towards the gate, and Haru smiles knowingly when she breezes past.

After a hectic weave through the school, praying that she didn’t miss him, Makoto swings open the doors to the main entrance, heart pounding as she watches a familiar outline slide down the stairs. “Akira!” she yells as she clambers down to meet him. His eyes shimmer with stardust, and Makoto feels the extra bento bump into her side. When she finally comes next to him, Akira’s mouth parts as he blinks in surprise. Makoto brushes a lock of hair behind her ear and digs her nails into her skirt. “Do you want to walk home together?”

Akira blinks again, but this time, his lips shift into a feline smirk, and he cocks his head. “Can’t get enough of me, can you?” Makoto can feel all the heat in her body rush up to her face, and she looks ahead while punching his shoulder. Akira laughs and holds her fist in the air, and when he speaks again, the teasing tone has disappeared. “I’d be more than happy if you wanted to come, but you _should_ be at Ryuji’s meet.”

Makoto flips her hair back with a flick of her head and tries to calm down the warmth in her cheeks. Akira faces forward, but the tip of his ear glows red under his curls. “Ryuji said so himself that there’s plenty of meets to attend. I’m just a little tired like you,” she explains softly. Her heart jumps up when Akira’s lips curve.

Makoto takes a few steps forward so he’s behind her. The spring sun paints him differently that it did during that first day in Shibuya, yellows and oranges now pinks and whites, and she commits the picture to memory again.

The bags under his eyes look a little lighter as the gray shines like mercury, and he grins and scratches the back of his head. “So long as we’re both here,” he begins, catching up to her as they round a corner onto the main street, “I know exactly where we should go.”

**Author's Note:**

> oof thx for getting all the way down here!! :)) this is going to be a Very long fic like i can already feel it in my bones so yeah!! fair warning if u decide to continue!! ill update as soon as i can!
> 
> thank u sm for reading this in the first place, though. it rly means a lot to me when anyone reads my work, and im super grateful <3 pls leave a comment or kudos if u feel so inclined! apologies for any typos, u know how it is :,)
> 
> i hope u have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening!


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